


Drabble Collection 09

by triste



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, Fluff, Genderswap, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The look on Kise’s face says that he could die happy right now and not regret a thing, but there’s no way Kuroko would let him do that, at least not before paying his bill. [REPOST]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble Collection 09

**[Kise/Kuroko, right with the world]**

It’s been almost an hour since Kise appeared, and Kuroko’s classmates have begun taking bets on how much longer it’ll be before needs to make a run for the toilet. His bladder must be at bursting point, if the impressive collection of empty cups on his table is any indication, but he still manages to raise his hand and request another drink.

“You must be very thirsty, Kise-kun,” comments Kuroko, as he pours him another drink.

“When you’re in uniform,” Kise tells him, “you’re supposed to address me properly.”

Kuroko bows humbly. “My sincerest apologies, master.”

The look on Kise’s face says that he could die happy right now and not regret a thing, but there’s no way Kuroko would let him do that, at least not before paying his bill (which is even more awe-inspiring than the amount of tea he’s consumed).

“Say it again,” he commands, eyes sparkling, clearly unable to get enough.

“Yes, master,” Kuroko replies automatically, almost robotically, but Kise doesn’t seem to care that there’s very little emotion behind the words. As long as he’s able to hear them, then all is right with the world.

“Whoever came up with the idea of doing a butler café deserves an award,” Kise declares, draining his latest cup.

Why he doesn’t pause to savour the taste, and therefore drag his interaction with Kuroko out for as long as he possibly can, is anyone’s guess, but nobody has any complaints while he’s willing to be a cash cow for their class, and if it means hogging Kuroko all to himself in the process, so be it.

“More tea, Kurokocchi.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, Kuroko leaves him temporarily in order to make a fresh pot. “As you wish, master.”

Watching him go with a blissful smile, Kise crosses his legs, squirming a little in his seat. He’s obviously had far too much to drink, and it wouldn’t be surprising if he was left peeing tea for the rest of the week, but he just can’t resist Kuroko dressed as a butler (not that he can resist him any other time, in any other outfit, but this one is special, because it’s cosplay). Casting a baleful glance at the sign on the chalkboard that reads PHOTOGRAPHS ARE NOT ALLOWED, Kise fingers his cell phone with regret at the missed opportunity, which is probably why he’s so reluctant to let Kuroko out of his sight, because he’s trying to burn the image of him into his mind forever.

“Thank you for your patience,” Kuroko says upon his return, serving Kise what must be his thirtieth cup of tea. “I hope you enjoy your drink.”

“I will,” replies Kise, “so be sure to do a maid café for next year’s culture festival. Or better yet, a bunny girl café. You’d look great in either costume.”

Kuroko smiles sweetly, giving Kise the thumbs-down signal. “Please die, master.”

“You’re so cold, Kurokocchi.”

“And you’re a pervert, but I believe that would be stating the obvious.”

Kise doesn’t sulk, surprisingly, although it does seem to take him more of an effort to drink his tea this time, and when he sets his cup down onto the tray, it’s clear from his expression that he’s reached his limit.

“Sorry Kurokocchi, but I can’t hold on any longer, so give me your parting speech before I leave.”

Bowing once again, Kuroko says, “Have a safe trip, master,” but Kise continues to linger, even after he’s dragged himself out of his chair and is practically jogging on the spot.

“A kiss,” he says, pointing at his cheek. “Please?” he adds, upon seeing Kuroko’s patented ‘I refuse’ look. “I’ll pay extra if you do. And I’ll add in a month’s worth of vanilla shakes.”

“No dirty tricks,” Kuroko warns.

“Of course,” Kise promises.

Kuroko leans up to touch his lips against Kise’s cheek, and he doesn’t go back on his word by turning his face so he can get a kiss on the lips instead, but he has no time to appreciate it properly, because he has to rush to the bathroom, and in his haste, he completely misses the tiny smile that Kuroko sees him off with.

~~

**[Male!Momoi/Kuroko, lead the way]**

The walk to school is a cold one during December, especially after it’s been raining overnight. Momoi is wrapped up warm in a thick coat, long scarf and a snug pair of gloves, but although they provide protection against the chill, they’re not much use in helping Momoi remain upright. His gaze never leaves the ground, and he keeps it fixed on his feet to watch out for any treacherous spots.

“It’s very icy today, Momoi-kun,” says Kuroko, “so please watch your step.”

Momoi is careful not to slip, but it’s difficult when he looks up to give Kuroko a smile of gratitude for his concern and sees the way his nose has turned red from the winter wind. Momoi forgets all about being cautious where he’s walking, distracted by Kuroko’s cuteness, and it brings him within millimetres of putting his left foot down on an a puddle that’s been frozen solid. Luckily, he catches himself just in time, and avoids it with a sigh of relief.

“We could hold hands if it makes you feel safer?” Kuroko suggests.

Momoi’s eyes widen, and he’s seriously tempted to say yes, because it would mean having a valid excuse to touch some part of Kuroko without looking like a shameless pervert, but then again, it might be too much excitement for Momoi to tolerate, even through the barrier of their gloves, because OH MY GOD HOLDING HANDS WITH TETSU-KUN.

Shaking his head, as if to clear away the naughty thoughts, Momoi opts for selflessness.

“It’s okay. And anyway, I’m slow. I wouldn’t want you to be late because of me.”

“I don’t mind,” Kuroko says, giving him a small smile. “Having a lack of presence can be very convenient at times, like claiming to have been present all along when the homeroom teacher misses me during role call.”

Smiling in return, Momoi asks, “Are you sure? Don’t feel obligated to look out for me just because I’m a klutz. Dai-chan already left fifteen minutes ago, so you can go ahead and catch him up if you’d prefer.”

Kuroko responds by raising his hand, waiting for Momoi to take it. “I’m quite happy to stay here with you.”

It shoots another arrow of love through Momoi’s heart, and the dull, grey sky overhead seems to disappear, melting away into a world of bubbles and sparkles that contains only the two of them.

Reaching out tentatively, Momoi slips his fingers around Kuroko’s, and Kuroko gives them a reassuring squeeze.

“Is this better?”

“Yeah.” Momoi grins goofily. “Much.”

He thinks he’d like it more if they were holding hands without gloves on, but he’s willing to settle for whatever he can.

Even so, it doesn’t prevent him from skidding on another icy patch seconds later, and he tightens his grasp on Kuroko instinctively as he falls, dragging his companion down with him. Although Momoi has never been remotely athletic, he somehow manages to do a bizarre little spin, sort of like how a cat twists in mid air so that it’ll land the right way, reversing his and Kuroko’s positions, and instead of him dropping flat on his back, it’s Kuroko who does it instead, and Momoi falls right on top of him with a muffled grunt.

Once he’s recovered from the shock, Momoi notices the position they’re in, his face going far redder than Kuroko’s nose. Kuroko stares up at him, as surprised as he ever gets, and Momoi can feel his eyes start to spin, but not before his nether regions can react to being between Kuroko’s legs.

“Sorry!” Momoi stammers, rolling off immediately, and making an even bigger fool of himself by falling on his butt. He feels like he’s about to cry, not from embarrassment (although that’s certainly a part of it), but from having contaminated Kuroko with his impure body (along with his equally tainted soul).

“Are you hurt?” Kuroko sounds concerned, and that makes Momoi feel even worse.

“Tetsu-kun,” he sniffles, “I got you all dirty.”

“It’s no problem,” Kuroko tells him, brushing off his jacket. “I’ll put it in the wash when I get home.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Kuroko doesn’t seem to understand, which is probably a blessing, but he offers Momoi his handkerchief anyway, helping him to his feet. “Come on,” he says, “let’s get going.”

Momoi nods meekly. “Okay.”

They continue to walk hand in hand, but with Kuroko slightly in front this time and Momoi a step behind, watching his small back as he leads the way.

~~

**[Fem!Kagami/fem!Kuroko, as expected]**

Kuroko’s hair is about as straight as her poker face, except for when she wakes up in the morning, and then it’s all over the place, making her look like she’s been dragged through a bush backwards. Kagami has no idea how it happens, especially since Kuroko never even does anything in her sleep to make it go that way. She simply lies down in one position, either on her back or on her side, and doesn’t move an inch for the rest of the night, no tossing and turning, no restlessness whatsoever, and yet it still happens every single time.

“How do you do it?” asks Kagami, awed by the mystery that is Kuroko’s hair. “How does it get so... so...”

She can’t even find the words to describe it, but ‘ridiculous’ comes to mind, followed shortly by ‘Super Saiyan,’ although she keeps her mouth shut for once.

“I’m not sure.” Kuroko reaches up to gives her bangs a little tug. “I suppose it’s just one of those things.”

Kagami really can’t figure it out. Kuroko’s hair isn’t naturally curly, otherwise it would get even worse during the rainy season, but it always stays perfectly in place, and it makes Kagami jealous, because she could use her hair as a hygrometer. It goes frizzy whenever at the mere hint of humidity.

It’s not like Kagami to care about her own appearance, but for some reason she finds it annoying to see Kuroko so unkempt.

“Sit down,” she orders, digging around inside her bag for a brush. “Let me tame that mop of yours.”

Kuroko kneels with a yawn, tucking her legs neatly underneath her body, which is something else Kagami envies about her, because she can’t sit in seiza for longer than five minutes before her feet start going numb. She’s careful at first, at least until she realises that she doesn’t have to be mindful of any knots, and then she brushes with more vigour, forcing Kuroko’s head to bob like a little nodding dog with every stroke. Her hair is soft to the touch, and Kagami runs her fingers through the strands.

“Mm.” Kuroko leans back slightly, and Kagami shoves gently to get her sitting up straight. “That feels nice.”

“This is a training camp,” Kagami reminds her, “and we’re at an inn, not a salon.”

A crappy, worn out inn, where the tatami is threadbare and the food is bland and tasteless, but as long as there’s lots of it, Kagami doesn’t give a damn.

“But it’s still good.” Kuroko sighs again, but it’s really more of a moan, and Kagami is glad she can’t see her face right now, which is probably as red as her hair.

“Quit sounding like you’re having an orgasm just from getting your hair brushed.”

“It’s also from having Kagami-san’s impressive bosom pressed into my back.”

Kagami drops the brush, wide-eyed with shock, because did Kuroko seriously say what she think she’s said, but more to the point, did she actually mean it, but then Kuroko turns around, expression as bland as ever, but there’s a wicked glint in her eyes that tells Kagami how much she’s enjoying this.

“Sorry. I was joking.”

But she isn’t really, and Kagami knows it, so she smacks Kuroko on the head, satisfied at the way it makes her wince. Rubbing the spot that’s just been hit, Kuroko yawns once more, slumping forward until her face rests snugly between the valley of Kagami’s breasts.

“What the hell are you doing now?”

“Resting my eyes. You wake up too early, Kagami-san.”

Kagami doesn’t remember ordering Kuroko to wake up with her, so there’s nobody to blame for her tiredness except for herself, but Kuroko seems comfortable right where she is, and she obviously has no intention of moving anytime soon.

“Don’t use my boobs as a pillow, idiot.”

“They’re so big, though,” says Kuroko, sleepily. “As expected of a returnee from America.”

“I’m not cuddling with you,” Kagami insists.

“Hmm,” is Kuroko’s response, already dozing off, and it’s only when her breathing evens out that Kagami dares to put an arm around her shoulders, splaying her fingers over the small of Kuroko’s back and resting her chin on the top of her head.


End file.
